


A Certain Softness

by nipsynips



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, apologies for the tooth rot, just disgusting fluff and cheesyness all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 13:24:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17488841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nipsynips/pseuds/nipsynips
Summary: It's Saturday morning and Paul wants to make breakfast. John wants to sleep. Fluff and mild mature content ensues.





	A Certain Softness

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy this tiny one-shot that wriggled its way into my head after I listened to Paul McCartney's "A Certain Softness" over and over again. Apologies for the ridiculously tooth-rotting fluff held within.

One, two, three, four. A cluster of brown speckled spots on his right shoulder blade, trailing down towards his elbow. Another, right at the base of his neck. Paul traced them carefully with the rough pads of his fingers, smiling as he felt the resulting shiver in the body beneath his. He moved lower, down to the small of his back and the light dimples mirrored on either side of his hips. John looked so delicate in his sleep, so long and lovely and calm. Paul loved him like this, without the tension and the petulant frown. But then again, Paul loved him always, though he wouldn’t say.

The sun crept through the curtains and onto the bed, highlighting the ends of John’s hair in golden auburn. His eyelashes looked almost blonde against the pale of his face, and Paul felt his chest tighten with affection ( _“Yer getting soft,”_ John often teased, but the smile on his face would always betray his pleasure at Paul’s affections). John looked so warm, burrowed into Paul’s cream coloured sheets, that Paul couldn’t help but lean down and press a kiss to the small of his back, smiling as he felt the pliant body naturally arch into his touch.

“Mmf,” John quietly moaned, pressing his face into his pillow.

“Morning, love,” Paul whispered back gently, smiling into John’s skin and scattering lazy kisses wherever his mouth could reach.

“‘Whassa time?” Without opening his eyes or waiting for Paul’s answer, John rolled over onto his back, grabbed hold of Paul’s waist, and effortlessly manoeuvred him onto his side so that he could cuddle into him like a cat. “Thas’ better. Hush, now, shhh.”

Paul chuckled as messy tufts of hair brushed up against his chin, John’s head now effectively buried into his chest with his long Roman nose tucked into Paul’s armpit.

“Johnnn,” Paul sang, moving his fingers downwards to lightly stroke between John’s shoulder blades.

“Busy. Come back later.”

Paul smiled fondly and moved to twist a few locks of hair around his fingers, knowing how much John liked having his hair fussed with. “Johnny,” he whispered, pulling the strands whilst simultaneously administering scratches to John’s scalp. “C’mon, love, time for breakfast.”  
  
John pushed his head further into Paul’s touch, evidently enjoying the attention, but refused to give an audible answer. Instead, he buried his nose even deeper inside Paul’s armpit, and tightened his grip around Paul’s middle.

“Jo- _ohn_...”

John sighed with mounting irritation and blindly poked at Paul’s stomach before doing the same to his sides, making Paul giggle as he swatted John’s prodding fingers away. “Where’s yer off switch? Go away. Or, better yet, keep doin’ that and stop talking.”

“Oi, I’m being _nice_.”  
  
“Be even nicer if you su--”  
  
“John.”  
  
With a final sigh, John raised himself up from Paul’s chest, leaning on one elbow as he blinked up at him. “Yes, darling?”  
  
Paul ignored the sarcastic tone and pressed a gentle kiss to the bridge of John’s nose.  
  
“Hello.”  
  
“Hi, Paul.”  
  
Despite his best efforts, John couldn’t help but smile as Paul beamed up at him, his arms now tightly wrapped around John’s waist. At the silent tapping of Paul’s fingers against his back, John moved to sit on top of Paul’s lap, his thighs coming to bracket Paul’s hips. Paul moved his hands up from John’s waist, taking the time to slowly caress his chest and his stomach before inevitably moving down to rest just above the swell of his arse. At the sight of John’s raised eyebrow, Paul laughed and moved his hands the rest of the way down, squeezing John in handfuls.  
  
“Missed you, haven’t I.”  
  
“Have you?”  
  
“Mmm. Yes. Always.”  
  
John snorted, “Always knew you only kept me around for my body.”  
  
“No, no, it’s your personality I’m after.”  
  
“Ye won’t find my personality where you’re looking.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Paul squeezed, harder this time. “Maybe if I keep trying…”  
  
“Christ, you’re insatiable.”  
  
“Mmm, only when you’re naked and on me lap.”  
  
“Romantic as ever, Macca.”  
  
Paul grinned and waggled his eyebrows, not bothered by John’s abuse in the slightest. Moving up against the headboard of the bed, Paul leaned in to press a series of soft kisses to the underside of John’s jaw, enjoying the soft gasps John made as he leaned into the touch. He kept his hands firmly in place as he nibbled downwards along John’s neck, closing his eyes against the sensation of John’s hips slowly beginning to move above his own.  
  
“Paul…” John couldn’t help but moan as Paul’s stubble scratched along his neck. “Oh, Paul, please…”  
  
“Is this romantic enough for you, pet?” Paul murmured against his collarbone as he continued his trajectory down John’s chest, stopping midway to bite softly at John’s nipples.  
  
“ _Fuck_ yeah,” John groaned and took hold of Paul’s hair, tugging at it as Paul littered the rest of his chest with love bites and kisses. “You could sing that little French tune while you fuck me, I may even swoon.”  
  
“Ah ah ah,” Paul grinned mischievously up at him as he pressed a final kiss on John’s abdomen. “None of that until after breakfast.”

“What?” John was incredulous as Paul swiftly moved him back onto the mattress and got out of bed, leaving John to miserably ogle his arse as Paul pulled on one of John’s discarded t-shirts.  
  
“Paul,” John whined as Paul checked himself in the mirror. “C’mon, come back to bed, love. It’s only Saturday morning, for chrissake, we’ve no obligations.”  
  
John rolled his eyes as Paul continued to sort his hair out in the mirror and leaned over to the side of the bed so he could put his glasses on. Looking back now fully sighted, John groaned in frustration as he noted that the t-shirt only reached the tops of Paul’s thighs, leaving very little to John’s already overactive imagination. The fact that the outline of his cock was obvious even underneath the fabric made the situation almost ludicrously obscene, and John wasn’t sure how he was meant to ignore it in favour of beans on toast.  
  
“Ok, new plan. Come back to bed and _I’ll_ fuck _you._ How’s that?”  
  
Paul chuckled as he slowly walked back towards the bed, leaning in to capture John’s lips in a lazy kiss. He darted his tongue out teasingly and traced the outline of John’s bottom lip, biting down once John moved to deepen the kiss. John moaned into his mouth, curling his tongue around Paul’s and slowly pulling him back into bed. Paul, however - the cock teasing _git_ \- was always one step ahead. Just as John was about to initiate phase two of mission “ _Get Paul Back Into Bed,”_ Paul quickly pulled away and gripped John’s forearm.  
  
“Get up, Johnny boy, the eggs won’t fry themselves.”  
  
“Aye, so I suggest ye get back in here so we can finish this as quickly as possible.”  
  
“You forget that I _know_ you, Johnny. I know you’ll just get right back underneath those covers once you’ve had yer way with me.”  
  
“You say that as if you’ve ever complained.”  
  
“Well, I don’t trust myself either, do I? That’s why breakfast comes first, an’ pudding after.”  
  
John sighed, finally relenting and getting out of bed. “Aye aye, Jim McCartney.”  
  
“Oi!” Paul smacked his arm lightly as he shoved John’s tatty, blue robe (which he _detested)_ towards him. “Don’t mention me dad while we’re both starkers.”  
  
John barked out a laugh as Paul began to push him out of the room, taking hold of his hand and interlacing their fingers once Paul closed the door behind them. It was silly, this feeling of absolute contentment and _warmth_ in John’s chest. Even more embarrassing was the tell-tale watering behind his eyes as he heard Paul’s quiet humming next to him, the slightly taller body almost vibrating with energy and optimism. It should be like this always, he thought. But then again, perhaps he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was the only one completely and irrevocably besotted.  
  
“John?”  
  
A pause. “Yes, Paul?”  
  
Paul grinned at him. “I’ve got those cornflakes you like.” _I love you._  
  
“You’ve already got me into yer bed, Macca,” John leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth, smiling into it like a fool. “You don’t need to try so hard.” _I love you, too._


End file.
